


The Pull

by profdreamer



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker
Genre: Gen, Just a little Tetra drabble, because she's awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 10:31:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10592172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profdreamer/pseuds/profdreamer
Summary: Even after ten years, it still pulls her...





	

_Even after ten years, it still pulls her._

She can see it in the way the wind flows through the grass. She can sometimes hear it when the lively music in her town hits the right tempo. She can feel it contract and relax in her taut muscles, whenever she drops her quill and parchment to help a settler hammer a nail, or catch an unruly cucco.

She can feel it in the way the stars pulse...when she goes out alone, through the dark streets, past the misty green forest, to lie in soft grass and watch the tiny spots of light dance in the sky...just as she'd done years ago.

Whenever she felt the isolation of leadership, an island in a tumultuous sea of unpopular decisions, shouted orders, and buried emotions, she could always turn to the stars for the purifying light of crystal clarity, and a downy blanket of comfort.

The stars used to be clearer. She used to know them better. The green cushion under her back used to be hard planks and a thin blanket, dragged up from her cabin.

Dew used to be sea foam. Doves used to be gulls.

She used to lie there, awash in salty air, sometimes drowning in the echoes of roaring wind, sometimes floating in soft creeks of timber and rope. And rocking, always rocking, from side-to-side, in the gentle beat of an eternal lullaby.

She sometimes wishes for the return of those nights...the occasional hunger and thirst when supplies were low...the layer of caked salt that permanently covered her face...the soft glow of her skin, which was stung by an unrelenting sun all day, and always held the sun's warmth, even when bathed in cool ribbons of moonlight. Her skin is now as pale as those silvery shards of glass, and is always threatening to burn an angry red whenever she tempts the sun. It reminds her, in a rather direct and painfully obvious way, that she is no longer a child of the sea.

No. The sea shrunk ages ago.

It now fits inside of her, in the silvery blue and green swirls of her eyes. It now fits in the single drop of dew (not sea foam) that settles on the tip of the black fringe of her eyelashes, as she sleeps under the night sky, curled up in a small ball in the fragrant grass.

It's in her pulse. It's in the crimson flow of her blood, and it's echoed in vibrant orange and red, fire currently waking up on the eastern corner of the sky. It will never desert her. No matter how far she goes, how much she builds, how high she climbs, or how deep she falls...

_...it will never allow her to forget._

**Author's Note:**

> I found this Wind Waker drabble I wrote YEARS ago while cleaning my computer, and since I have a shiny new AO3 I decided to post it to give some variety over here! I think it might have even been on my FF dot net way back in the day? Anyway, I have it here for posterity now! Enjoy!


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